Death Ride 2009 Survivor
Jul. 13th, 2009 08:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
threadwalkerI finished 3 passes. Hurrah! I'll post how many feet of climing that is later. But it was 60 miles and 8 hours + 10 minutes.
I'm already scheming what it would take to finish 5 passes, so I am thinking I'll be back in 2 or 3 years
It was glorious.
I started at 4:30 am. I finished both sides of monitor in 5.5 hrs and of that, I spent 5 hours riding and the other 30 minutes getting pass stickers, taking one over-due potty stop (!!), eating, and taking some pictures. This was awesome because I'd estimated that portion to take 6 hrs, so I was beating my Near Death Expectations from June. (Yes, I always compete with myself). I got to the top of Ebbetts a little after noon, got my sticker, snagged some redvines from a Boy Scout, and rolled down to Hermits Valley, arriving at 12:40, 8 hours and 10 minutes after starting. Technically I got my 4th pass sticker at the bottom, but I was done and didn't climb back up to Ebbetts.
Gorey Details
First Leg of Journey: Alarm clock goes off at 2am. I must have hit the snooze button because I didn't sit up until it went off (again) at 2:09 AM. With about 5 hours of sleeep, I was up and promptly had a brief spike of fear (what in the world was I doing?). Then began my routine of gearing up. I was in the truck and pulling out at 2:39 AM (man, am I like clock work or what?). I managed to forget nothing, amazingly enough!
I had to take the roads carefully because of all the dear out. And coming over Ebbetts in the dark with the narrow road, hair pin turns and shear drop-offs is adrenilizing. My stomach was in my shoes for quite a lot of that ride.
Right after passing the turnoff to Monitor Pass as I headed to Markleeville I began to see twinkling lights on the road as the early riders approached the first climb. I noted that it was just 4am and they must have started at least 15 minutes before I saw them. (wow!)
It was still full dark when I pulled into Turtle Rock Creek. I got great parking and as I climbed out of the cab I was greated by the "boom-boom-clang-schping" of a marching band going at full tilt. I couldn't see them in the dark, but they were banging their guts out on drums, etc, no doubt for the pleasure of the Deathride Campers who were getting up (and maybe those who didn't realize that the 4am wake-up call would echo through the hills).
Pass 1, Front Side of Monitor
I was parked, hit the porta-potty, and on the road at 4:30 am. I got in a line of riders that swooped down through Markleeville, our headlights picking out the road. By the time I hit the turnoff to Monitor I was riding alone. I think there were about 200 people in front of me when I started and probably less than 200 behind me by the time I was done since 2500+ riders passed me; again, being one of the slow pokes is a different experience and I've got no problem riding my own pace.
Top of First Pass (6:30 am)
Pass 2, Back Side of Monitor
A much needed potty break and exchanging picture taking favors with another rest-stop rider, then I was back on the road. I felt pretty good. I had such a great time on the climb and I was surprised at how good I was feeling.
I got my second pass sticker at the bottom of the back-side of Monitor, where there was a clump of riders. With 3000 riders on the road, I actually spotted Charlie, who I met on the NDE a month ago. Yay! A friendly face. On the way up I saw him, his wife, 3 of the Near Death coaches, and 2 other NDE attendees (I was wearing my Kirkwood jersey so that they'd be able to spot me since I am utterly lame at recognizing people even without bike gear in the way). "Hellos" were exchanged with much well-wishing back and forth. How slick is that?
The backside of Monitor is nothing great to look at. It's a blasted landscape of rock, dead trees, and struggling weeds. I got some shots from 3/4 the way up, showing the road several hundred feet below me. The riders are that hazy shadow in the lane of traffic.
There is no shade for that climb and the sun was up, beating down on me, so I had to pull over and start shedding layers. I got to mile-marker 7.6 at 8:30, which is where the climb eases up, and to the Monitor Pass marker at 9am. I was starting to feel a little tired, which was encouraging to me; I wasn't wiped out, just tired. Yay!
3rd Pass, to the Top of Ebbetts, 8730 ft elevation
The ride down Monitor's front to the junction to Ebbetts was quick - my speed topped out at 44 mph. (Holy road rash Batman, I'm glad I didn't wipe out).
The 10 mile climb up Ebbetts took all that I had left in me. The first 4 miles are a gentle rise that you wouldn't notice in your car. On foot or on a bike, however, it's a different tale.
There were some great fans to cheer us on, mimosas in hand:
They were awesome! That's how I'd be cheering people on!
The Ebbetts climb gets steep at mile 4 and stays steep for 6 miles. There are sheer drop offs, some shade, and lovely landscape. But that climb sucked me dry. I stopped 3 times before I reached the top.
The pain
My tale of pain started about a mile into the steep climb up Ebbetts (about mile 5). I discovered a whole new world of pain in new places. It wasn't any of the predicted owies; my legs felt fine, I didn't have altitude symptoms (tight chest, labored breathing, pounding heart, head-ache, etc), no chafing at the bikini line or on the elastic of the shorts, my butt was fine and my knees were fine.
Instead, I think I stopped digesting; everytime I took a drink, I had shooting pain in my stomach. I know that when you're climbing, your blood is in your legs, not your stomach, so I expected to stop getting my calories from solid foot at about this point, but I wasn't expecting DRINKING to be a pain-inducer. Yikes!
My "gear shifting" finger (middle finger) on my right hand began having excruciating pain every time I shifted gears, which was surprising; I worked around it by developing a new shift-grip which didn't hurt as much. I started to feel a sharp pain in my neck and immediately started to worry about what THAT meant (and to think aboutweenie100 and her biking-neck troubles which have kept her off her bike for a year). My sciatica started to act up, shooting pain from hip to foot which was a new player in the "make me feel miserable" game. Honestly, I was working through most of that by chanting to myself that my legs, ass, and knees felt great and because they's come and then fade and come and fade. It's when I got hot-foot that I started to fall apart.
Image your foot feeling like you're holding it to a hot grill. Both feet were like that and they didn't stop burning unless I stopped biking. The constant burning pain was horrible. I stopped 3 times to wiggle my toes and convince myself that THIS pain was merely sensation and not a warning that something was wrong. I worked on "pulling up" with my clipped shoes, which was some relief, but everytime I had to stand, it was hell on my feet. The third stop was at a reservoir where I peeled out of my shoes and socks and soaked my feet in mountain cold water.
Right here:
Ahhhh! The relief. As I listened to other bikers debate the benefits of cool feet against having water trapped in their shoes, I once again thanked the fates I had tri-biking shoes on, which are designed to drain and to allow feet to dry after a swim. yay me!
I remounted and had 1 or 2 miles left (I honestly can't recall) and it was the fact that people were waiting for me in Hermits Valley that fueled my drive. I was beat by the time I got to the top Ebbetts. Of course, the ride down the backside was invigorating and about half way down I was feeling great and started thinking I had a 4th pass in me.
I didn't do it, though. I rolled past my support team, who didn't recognize me. I rolled back around, got their attention, much laughter about how all bikers start to look alike, and they helped me dismount. I sat down and peeled out of my shoes. F took one and went to clean it up (I'd killed some catsup packets in the dark and I'd been riding with red catsup sprayed up my gears, on my shoe, all over my socks, etc, since before the sun was up). I got water, Pringles, caught my breath, and assessed. I gave myself until 1:30 to decide if I had a 4th pass; the cutoff for the climb was 2pm. I think I made the smart decision, which is I couldn't pull another 5 mile climb out of my body at +8% incline. The potential stomach cramping and hot foot were going to kick my butt and I didn't want to get part way up and have to dismount; too dangerous.
So I relaxed into my accomplishment and decided it was pretty awesome to have finished 3 passes on a first try. It was glorious.
Here is the awesome crew who greeted me at the bottom of Hermits Valley.
I'm already scheming what it would take to finish 5 passes, so I am thinking I'll be back in 2 or 3 years
It was glorious.
I started at 4:30 am. I finished both sides of monitor in 5.5 hrs and of that, I spent 5 hours riding and the other 30 minutes getting pass stickers, taking one over-due potty stop (!!), eating, and taking some pictures. This was awesome because I'd estimated that portion to take 6 hrs, so I was beating my Near Death Expectations from June. (Yes, I always compete with myself). I got to the top of Ebbetts a little after noon, got my sticker, snagged some redvines from a Boy Scout, and rolled down to Hermits Valley, arriving at 12:40, 8 hours and 10 minutes after starting. Technically I got my 4th pass sticker at the bottom, but I was done and didn't climb back up to Ebbetts.
Gorey Details
First Leg of Journey: Alarm clock goes off at 2am. I must have hit the snooze button because I didn't sit up until it went off (again) at 2:09 AM. With about 5 hours of sleeep, I was up and promptly had a brief spike of fear (what in the world was I doing?). Then began my routine of gearing up. I was in the truck and pulling out at 2:39 AM (man, am I like clock work or what?). I managed to forget nothing, amazingly enough!
I had to take the roads carefully because of all the dear out. And coming over Ebbetts in the dark with the narrow road, hair pin turns and shear drop-offs is adrenilizing. My stomach was in my shoes for quite a lot of that ride.
Right after passing the turnoff to Monitor Pass as I headed to Markleeville I began to see twinkling lights on the road as the early riders approached the first climb. I noted that it was just 4am and they must have started at least 15 minutes before I saw them. (wow!)
It was still full dark when I pulled into Turtle Rock Creek. I got great parking and as I climbed out of the cab I was greated by the "boom-boom-clang-schping" of a marching band going at full tilt. I couldn't see them in the dark, but they were banging their guts out on drums, etc, no doubt for the pleasure of the Deathride Campers who were getting up (and maybe those who didn't realize that the 4am wake-up call would echo through the hills).
Pass 1, Front Side of Monitor
I was parked, hit the porta-potty, and on the road at 4:30 am. I got in a line of riders that swooped down through Markleeville, our headlights picking out the road. By the time I hit the turnoff to Monitor I was riding alone. I think there were about 200 people in front of me when I started and probably less than 200 behind me by the time I was done since 2500+ riders passed me; again, being one of the slow pokes is a different experience and I've got no problem riding my own pace.
Top of First Pass (6:30 am)
Pass 2, Back Side of Monitor
A much needed potty break and exchanging picture taking favors with another rest-stop rider, then I was back on the road. I felt pretty good. I had such a great time on the climb and I was surprised at how good I was feeling.
I got my second pass sticker at the bottom of the back-side of Monitor, where there was a clump of riders. With 3000 riders on the road, I actually spotted Charlie, who I met on the NDE a month ago. Yay! A friendly face. On the way up I saw him, his wife, 3 of the Near Death coaches, and 2 other NDE attendees (I was wearing my Kirkwood jersey so that they'd be able to spot me since I am utterly lame at recognizing people even without bike gear in the way). "Hellos" were exchanged with much well-wishing back and forth. How slick is that?
The backside of Monitor is nothing great to look at. It's a blasted landscape of rock, dead trees, and struggling weeds. I got some shots from 3/4 the way up, showing the road several hundred feet below me. The riders are that hazy shadow in the lane of traffic.
There is no shade for that climb and the sun was up, beating down on me, so I had to pull over and start shedding layers. I got to mile-marker 7.6 at 8:30, which is where the climb eases up, and to the Monitor Pass marker at 9am. I was starting to feel a little tired, which was encouraging to me; I wasn't wiped out, just tired. Yay!
3rd Pass, to the Top of Ebbetts, 8730 ft elevation
The ride down Monitor's front to the junction to Ebbetts was quick - my speed topped out at 44 mph. (Holy road rash Batman, I'm glad I didn't wipe out).
The 10 mile climb up Ebbetts took all that I had left in me. The first 4 miles are a gentle rise that you wouldn't notice in your car. On foot or on a bike, however, it's a different tale.
There were some great fans to cheer us on, mimosas in hand:
They were awesome! That's how I'd be cheering people on!
The Ebbetts climb gets steep at mile 4 and stays steep for 6 miles. There are sheer drop offs, some shade, and lovely landscape. But that climb sucked me dry. I stopped 3 times before I reached the top.
The pain
My tale of pain started about a mile into the steep climb up Ebbetts (about mile 5). I discovered a whole new world of pain in new places. It wasn't any of the predicted owies; my legs felt fine, I didn't have altitude symptoms (tight chest, labored breathing, pounding heart, head-ache, etc), no chafing at the bikini line or on the elastic of the shorts, my butt was fine and my knees were fine.
Instead, I think I stopped digesting; everytime I took a drink, I had shooting pain in my stomach. I know that when you're climbing, your blood is in your legs, not your stomach, so I expected to stop getting my calories from solid foot at about this point, but I wasn't expecting DRINKING to be a pain-inducer. Yikes!
My "gear shifting" finger (middle finger) on my right hand began having excruciating pain every time I shifted gears, which was surprising; I worked around it by developing a new shift-grip which didn't hurt as much. I started to feel a sharp pain in my neck and immediately started to worry about what THAT meant (and to think about
weenie100 and her biking-neck troubles which have kept her off her bike for a year). My sciatica started to act up, shooting pain from hip to foot which was a new player in the "make me feel miserable" game. Honestly, I was working through most of that by chanting to myself that my legs, ass, and knees felt great and because they's come and then fade and come and fade. It's when I got hot-foot that I started to fall apart.Image your foot feeling like you're holding it to a hot grill. Both feet were like that and they didn't stop burning unless I stopped biking. The constant burning pain was horrible. I stopped 3 times to wiggle my toes and convince myself that THIS pain was merely sensation and not a warning that something was wrong. I worked on "pulling up" with my clipped shoes, which was some relief, but everytime I had to stand, it was hell on my feet. The third stop was at a reservoir where I peeled out of my shoes and socks and soaked my feet in mountain cold water.
Right here:
Ahhhh! The relief. As I listened to other bikers debate the benefits of cool feet against having water trapped in their shoes, I once again thanked the fates I had tri-biking shoes on, which are designed to drain and to allow feet to dry after a swim. yay me!
I remounted and had 1 or 2 miles left (I honestly can't recall) and it was the fact that people were waiting for me in Hermits Valley that fueled my drive. I was beat by the time I got to the top Ebbetts. Of course, the ride down the backside was invigorating and about half way down I was feeling great and started thinking I had a 4th pass in me.
I didn't do it, though. I rolled past my support team, who didn't recognize me. I rolled back around, got their attention, much laughter about how all bikers start to look alike, and they helped me dismount. I sat down and peeled out of my shoes. F took one and went to clean it up (I'd killed some catsup packets in the dark and I'd been riding with red catsup sprayed up my gears, on my shoe, all over my socks, etc, since before the sun was up). I got water, Pringles, caught my breath, and assessed. I gave myself until 1:30 to decide if I had a 4th pass; the cutoff for the climb was 2pm. I think I made the smart decision, which is I couldn't pull another 5 mile climb out of my body at +8% incline. The potential stomach cramping and hot foot were going to kick my butt and I didn't want to get part way up and have to dismount; too dangerous.
So I relaxed into my accomplishment and decided it was pretty awesome to have finished 3 passes on a first try. It was glorious.
Here is the awesome crew who greeted me at the bottom of Hermits Valley.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Yay for you!
Date: 2009-07-13 04:58 pm (UTC)I'm properly impressed. No fear on the down-slopes, eh? They always have terrified me! You are a better rider than I ever was. Next time you will know just what to expect and prepare for it. I'm amazed you didn't have any bottom pain. I always did, but never had problems with the feet. It must be riding style or body type that makes the difference. Were you wearing tri-shorts too?
Take it easy for a day or two recovery time. Good job!!
Re: Yay for you!
Date: 2009-07-14 05:17 pm (UTC)I was a little concerned about rear-end pain, too, but it never really did more than get a little achey; certainly not enough pain for me to even consider that I needed to stop or rest.
I'm not that brave on the downhills, but following a pack of cyclists seemed to infuse me with courage and gave me someone to copy. I'm like that when I ski, too. I do better when I follow someone who's better.
Re: Yay for you!
Date: 2009-07-14 07:12 pm (UTC)I got terrified whenever I was in a pack going downhill. I'd be so afraid I'd make a mistake and take a whole bunch of us down. Never did, but I was sure afraid of it. If I ever get back on wheels again, I think I'll skip that part.
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Date: 2009-07-13 05:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-13 05:43 pm (UTC)Do you know what causes 'hot-foot'? I'm curious.
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Date: 2009-07-14 05:18 pm (UTC)I am not sure what causes it. I emailed the coaches I met and asked them what I can do to prevent it and what I can do to make it go away.
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Date: 2009-07-14 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-13 06:33 pm (UTC)Your freakin' awesomeness is LEGION!!!
Date: 2009-07-13 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-13 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-13 08:35 pm (UTC)You are absolutely amazing!
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Date: 2009-07-13 11:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 02:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-14 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-15 01:12 am (UTC)